Infinity
by gote
Summary: In which James is ridiculous and there are many misunderstandings and nothing turns out quite like it was meant to, but is somehow so much better. Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Challenge, Round 12.


_**prompt: **Write about a last for your OTP._

**_competition: _**_The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 12_

* * *

**Infinity**

James didn't make the best first impression on his date. In fact, for many years, he'd been making nothing but terrible impressions. I wouldn't have mattered if the very first time he had been as regal as a king, as glorious as the sun, because he'd gone and made a fool of himself enough times since then to bury that memory so far down that it may as well have never happened. And it didn't. The first time James met Lily, he'd accidentally bumped into her, nearly knocking her off her feet, and then had done it again because she looked so funny and so lovely in her righteous, red-haired anger. He hadn't loved her from the first time, but he had been fascinated.

Then he told her eyes were like a toad's vomit, but in a good way, and the only thing it seemed like Lily was fascinated by then was the fact she'd never met a little boy so awful, and if you know little boys like eleven-year-old Lily did, then you'd know that in itself was remarkable.

Anyway, he was on a date. Well, that's a lie. It wasn't a date, he just really hoped he could turn it into one. Lily had agreed to meet him at a certain time and place, and James was pretty sure that in itself was the definition of a date, only Sirius told him not to be so daft, only he had used many more words than that and none of them were 'daft'.

James was going to sweep Lily off her feet. Not literally. He did learn from his mistakes. He did not like the sound of his sweet love's startled scream, nor enjoy having his back pounded by two fists so mighty for all their delicate appearance. Lily had made it known, in no uncertain times, how she did not care to be flung about like a rag doll, and also that she felt vaguely queasy. James told her that was from the motion, that what she was actually feeling was seasick. Lily told him that no, it was his face.

James thought that neither kind nor accurate, but when he raised the issue with Sirius, his 'friend' had said that Lily had a point, and that he often felt the very same way around, and had made certain that James knew that he had raced through the skies on a broomstick and perused the ocean on a yacht with many very pretty girls and had not felt even a little nauseous. James didn't think the latter story was relevant but Peter, who was also present, seemed to think it called for an entire afternoon's worth of discussion. James, very focused on his cause (the defending of the surely undeniable beauty of his facial features), turned to Remus, who was always sometimes almost sane (on occasion), and asked what he thought. Remus didn't look up from his wood carving (or whatever the hell blokes like him did in their free time) and told James, very politely, that Remus wasn't interested in kissing him. James had a lot of thoughts about kissing, most not in relation to Remus, and the daydreams distracted him from any further questioning.

Except for asking Peter if he would kiss him, to which Peter replied, "Er," and anything else said afterwards came to late.

James hoped this not-date would end in kissing (not Peter). It was looking less and less likely, however, since Lily was growing redder and redder, and not with desire. James didn't think people actually turned red with desire, but he wanted to continue considering it as an option, because the alternatives were less ideal. He was wishing more and more by the moment that he hadn't kicked that dog as soon as Lily had come into view.

He didn't wish he hadn't kicked the dog, only that Lily hadn't seen him do it. He'd even consider regretting kicking the dog if Lily really wanted him to, only the dog was Sirius and Sirus was a ponce.

Sirius, known at times like this as Padfoot, had a few moments before been trotting about James's feet like the happiest little lamb and, quite possibly, attempting to trip James over so his nice new shirt would be less nice and new and more covered in dirt, now lay on his back with his back with his tail between his legs and his tongue hanging out and his eyes the size of very big, very sad eyes, looking a thousand times more mopey and injured and sympathetic than he actually was.

"Oh, shut up," James said to Padfoot.

Padfoot made what was quite possibly the saddest noise ever made, the tiniest little whine deep in his throat. James could practically see Lily's heart melting in response, softening the outrage that had been there only moments before. That in itself was too adorable sight for the human eye to even get a glimpse of, so he didn't look at her. He glared at the big black dog flopped at his feet. There was only one person who was allowed to melt Lily's heart, and that person was not a dog. He kicked Padfoot again for good measure.

"_James." _Lily sounded scandalised.

James shifted guiltily. Lily called him James now, but further animal cruelty might persuade her to shift them back into surname only territory. James liked to consider that time like a distant past life, and not one he wished to return to. By way of apology, he said, "He's only faking it."

Lily bobbed down to the dog's level. Padfoot sat up immediately, his great tail hitting James's leg with every back and forth. He learnt into Lily's hand as she scratched him behind the ear, closed his eyes in a sort of bliss and panted happily. The slut.

"He wouldn't do that," cooed Lily. "He's a good boy, look at him."

James was looking at him, but only because to look at Lily was to look at who she was cuddling too. Let it be known that James did not like Lily to be angry at him. Except sometimes, when it was funny. But for the most part, she was his Lily-flower and he wanted the sun to always shine for her, but not to get into her eyes or burn her skin. Now, however, was a time when she perhaps should be feeling more wrath towards him than she seemed to be. In fact, she was smiling quite happily. It was highly concerning.

"Do you hate animals?" James heard himself asking.

Lily looked up, her hands tangled in black fur. "Yes."

"Well," said James, "Don't."

"You kicked it," said Lily.

"_It?_"

She smiled. "Sirius."

James just about fell over. Quite a feat, seeing as he was standing still and upright with both his feet planted firmly on even ground. "_Sirius?_"

Sirius's tail stopped wagging. He snapped at James's ankles. "Stupid mutt," James said. The stupid mutt knew by now to evade the swinging of James's foot. "I didn't tell her." Teeth sunk into ankle. "Okay, I did, but only _just then._"

Lily arched a cool eyebrow. "Should I leave you two alone?" she asked.

"I was going to tell you," James said, dejectedly. Then, with the intensity he'd often suddenly lunge into, he added, "I only want to be honest with you."

Lily stood up. Padfoot rolled onto his back as though hoping to have his stomach scratched, but Lily didn't seem to notice. "Please tell me this isn't another confession of love-"

"I have nothing left to confess."

Lily looked almost pained. "I do."

James felt as if everything went very quiet. He couldn't hear birds, distant laughter. He couldn't hear Padfoot's breathing or his own heart's beating. "Oh," he said.

Lily nodded like she was making up her mind. "Just- Not in front of the dog," she said.

"He'll resent that," James said, joking though his stomach felt sick with nerves.

There wasn't a dog anymore. There was a handsome wizard with long black hair, lounging in the grass. "You know we have to kill her now?" Sirius said to James.

Lily's eyes were alive with delight, not a shade of fear concerning her apparent upcoming execution. "It was only a theory," she said.

Sirius said a word that does not need repeating. He stood up, then, "I feel this calls for a serious - don't - conversation, but I can't even stomach the thought of such a thing before breakfast, so we'll schedule the murder for later, yeah?" He ruffled James's hair and winked at Lily. "Alright, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

James watched him go. "There isn't a thing he wouldn't do," he said, but distantly, like the words were coming from somewhere far away and unconnected to him.

He didn't want the moment to come. He had thought things were looking up. He and Lily had been civil, more than that even. He thought they were friends now, and he wished they could just be friends, wished he didn't have to ruin it all with these feelings that would not go away. He wanted to tell her that he could make their friendship work, that he'd do anything so she'd just feel comfortable, but he was scared that the anything might be him giving her up entirely and so he stayed silent.

Lily was staring at his shoes like she was trying to make them disappear. Why she'd want to see his naked feet, James had no idea. He had other suggestions- no, he had to stop thinking like this.

If she was attempting non-verbal magic, she was failing. She also didn't seem to be doing so well with the whole verbal thing either. "I... I want to tell you I can't do this anymore."

James tried to swallow but he just got choked up. "Lily-"

"I've been thinking, for a long time..."

"Please-"

"...that I haven't been honest with you, James."

"-Don't."

"No, let me finish."

His mouth clamped shut.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry. I'm awful at this. Awful, awful, awful."

"You're not-" because still, that's the last word he'd ever think to use to describe her, it was only how he was feeling at the moment. "You don't have to..."

"No. I want to."

James gulped. "Nice weather we've been having."

"James Potter."

"Mmmm?" he said, but sounded so distracted he may not have been answering her at all.

"I can't just be friends with you any more."

The world fell out from under his feet. "You can't... be friends with me anymore?"

"Just."

"What?"

Her hands dug into her hair. He thought she was going to tear it out in her frustration. He knew now that she was going to yell at him. It always happened like this.

And she did. She yelled, "James, I'm in love with you!"

He almost politely stammered, "What?"

"I'm sorry-"

His face shattered like a mirror struck by rock. "You're sorry?"

"I'm not sorry."

"Then why are you saying you're sorry?"

"Why are you berating me about this? Did you hear what I said?"

James shook his head. He was paler than the ghosts that haunted the halls, than all the kids in the hospital wing who'd caught the vanishing disease. It was like he'd never been cocky or confident in his life, impressive considering the reality being closer to him never not being cocky or confident in his life.

Lily took a deep breath and stood up straight. "I said I'm in love with you."

The grin that had been dancing at the corner of his lips, threatening escape, broke out, huge and surprised and unabashed and dazzling with its realness, all its wholehearted joy. "I heard you," he said. "I just wanted to hear it again."

"You're a prat."

"I know. You love me."

"I'm starting to reconsider that."

James looked around them. They were by the edge of the forest, hidden from the school, but the dirt was too dirty and the trees too treey and, "This isn't right," he said. "There are meant to be fireworks and a band playing and flowers everywhere."

"Am I not enough for you?" asked Lily, dryly.

"All I'm saying is that it _would be nice _if you'd taken me out on a boat and maybe bought me new earrings, and anyway, _are you sure_? Like, you actually love me? This isn't just a passing fancy, like a cough?"

"Are you mixing your metaphors?"

"Possibly. But anyway, are you _absolutely certain?_"

"James, have you not been wanting this for the past thousand years?"

"Only nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine. And I've dreamt of this moment that many times - there were harps, and flowers - so how do I know that I'm not dreaming again? This could-"

James never finished his sentence. He was, instead, presented with very real, highly compelling evidence to disprove any idea he had about this being a dream (it was a dream, just not in that way, he wasn't asleep, this was his life, and life was perfect).

He wouldn't tell you how she kissed him, it was something that was his - no, their's - and their's alone, and he would keep the memory and keep it always, in a special compartment in his heart made just for it (he had a lot of compartments, a lot of special things, and most of all, a very big heart, but this was extra dear) and sometimes he'd let the memory out, and if you were lucky enough to be close to it you wouldn't know exactly how it went, just how the feeling of it set your heart to singing and made it feel like every missed moment and every trouble along the way had been worth it all along, just to get to here.

After a considerable amount of time, James muttered against her lips, "There should at least be singing birds and baby deer."

Lily stepped back, a little unsteady on her feet, and surveyed the area. Then she pointed to a lone crow on an old bit of fence. "There you go."

"Not quite what I had in mind," James said. "This is the end of an era. It deserves a parade at the very least."

"The end? I thought it was more of a beginning."

"That is because you're an optimist."

She laughed. He loved the sound, hoped she'd never stop, but thought that might be uncomfortable for her and so he changed his wish halfway through and hoped instead that she would laugh whenever she wanted to laugh, as loud as she wanted to laugh, and maybe that she could also continue to find him funny, forever and always.

"And what are you then? Singing birds, Merlin's beard-"

"I had hoped Merlin and his beard would be in attendance, too. He'd understand my philosophy. Beginnings come from endings, endings are only beginings, and so on. It's a cycle."

"If this is a beginning then I don't think I want an end." Her eyes were very wide.

He'd gone and made her sad. They'd only been together minutes, and he'd made her sad. They were together, weren't they? That was what he'd meant. This was the last time they would be James and Lily, from now they were James&Lily.

He smiled an encouragement, needing her to perk back up. "This ending wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I guess you're right."

He gently tugged her into him, so happy they could be close like this. She rested her head against his shoulder and hugged him like she didn't want to ever let go. "James," she said. He felt her breath tickle his neck.

"Yeah?"

"You still haven't told me how you feel."

He laughed. It shook his body, but Lily didn't step away. He touched her chin, tilting her head to look at him, and he stared at her face for a very long time. Lily's perfect green eyes stared back, her gaze only wavering slightly. Eventually he reached his conclusion.

"You're alright," he said.

She punched him in the gut.

He laughed then hugged her very tight. "I don't think there are words enough," he said. He wanted to tell her, even though she knew, that he loved her and always had and always will, that if he ever stopped loving her then it wasn't him, he'd been replaced by someone else and she should contact the Ministry immediately, but no such sentiments could make it past his windpipe.

He was seeing, stretched before him, not a path with a beginning or an end. Yes, there was a path, and yes there were corners, wrong turns, misplaced signs, mountains and valleys, but he couldn't see a point where it began, nor a place where it reached the end. Maybe it rejoined its own tail, a thought James liked because it meant that no matter what they'd meet again, that this moment would happen again, or maybe there was an end he couldn't see, and they would reach it soon, but until then, he had Lily. It was terrifying, but it wasn't. James looked away from all this, because it didn't matter. All that mattered was right now, Lily was here with him, and it was possible that she always would be.

So he looked back at her, and he smiled like he'd never stop, and he told her it all.


End file.
